


The Sniffles

by boppgoestheweasel



Category: Clone High
Genre: F/M, Joan is sick, Oneshot, Sickfic, Whump, and its pretty short too, i don't know what else to tag uh, just take it, just wholesome joanfk content
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-07
Updated: 2020-11-07
Packaged: 2021-03-08 18:07:53
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,962
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27430999
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/boppgoestheweasel/pseuds/boppgoestheweasel
Summary: Joan is sick and miserable, but JFK makes it just a bit better.
Relationships: JFK/Joan of Arc (Clone High)
Comments: 8
Kudos: 112





	The Sniffles

**Author's Note:**

> hello! this is just a very short sickfic because there are nearly none for this fandom?? so take this!

“Joansie… you’ve been tossing and turning all night. Are you, uh, okay?” 

Joan’s dry eyes slowly opened to the sight of a worried JFK hovering next to her, and even in the dim lighting she could see the crease between his eyebrows. 

It had started a couple days ago. The weather was changing significantly as winter rolled its way into Exclamation Point, and Joan never did well with the temperature drop each year. She always came down with something. Toots always poked fun at her for it, going on about how he may be blind, but that he knows a weak immune system when he hears coughing. And when she started coughing a bit ago, she knew it was that time of year.

She didn’t ever see the point in checking her temperature, only because there was a chance she would feel bad for herself and not want to get stuff done. So instead, if Joan felt well enough, she would go out and about her day. Keeping her distance of course, she would approach the day as normally as possible. 

Joan hated the attention that came with being sick, which is why she hid it from anyone she was in contact with. It’s irresponsible on her part, considering someone may get sick due to her ignorance, but usually her sickness only lasts maybe a week at most, so she would try to avoid people as much as possible during that time while still being productive. However, when a certain someone wants to hangout with her, and that certain someone is her boyfriend, she can’t lift the courage to say that she’s too busy, or that she simply doesn’t want to. The ideal thing would be to say that she doesn’t want to get JFK sick, but then he would make a huge fuss over how she needs to take care of herself and that he’s “coming over right away.” It’s endearing, absolutely, but she  _ hates  _ any kind of attention that is drawn to her. Even if it’s JFK’s. 

So pulling the house phone away from her face, she cleared her throat, and returned with a “sure!” before hearing an excited squeal from her boyfriend on the other side of the line. 

She could never disappoint him.

That Friday Joan actually showed up to school, prepared to go home with JFK. She never worried about packing a bag, since she had clothes at JFK’s place, and even if she didn’t, she would always just steal his clothes. He never had an issue with that either. 

And don’t get her wrong, Joan really enjoyed the time spent with JFK. Their sleepovers were always fun, and she would always make time to spend with her boyfriend. But when she’s sick? She would rather be home, unbothered, not worried about. Because if she acted like she wasn’t sick, Toots couldn’t see her to say otherwise. But she definitely looked sick.

Joan was abnormally pale, paler than she usually was, and her eyes were tired and red. Her appearance looked the same as far as hair style and clothing goes, but she couldn’t mask her terrifying facial features and sniffling nose. In fact, when she went up to JFK at the beginning of the day, he glanced her up and down and pulled in a breath.

“Joansie, you look very cold. Where’s your coat? That tiny jacket won’t keep you warm.” And with that, he had promptly pulled his sweater off, shoving it over Joan’s head. He was left in a white button up, and Joan could tell he was cold, but he didn’t dare take his sweater back. “You, uh, should be warmer now. Gosh, you, er, look like a ghoul!”

He said it endearingly, Joan knew that, so she gave a laugh. At this time, Joan was rather sure she was sick, but for whatever reason she couldn’t bring herself to not fall into the embrace of JFK’s arms.

“Gee, Joan! You’re cold as ice. What, did you, uh, walk to school today?”

Joan gave a nod. She didn’t want to be sniffling in the car with Toots. 

JFK sighed, and gave a small laugh before he pulled her along into the halls of their enclosed school. 

The day was so long, so boring. Joan fell asleep three times throughout the day, except for in Mr. Sheepman’s class, because all of her friends were in that same class, and she refused to show that she wasn’t feeling well. JFK might’ve even pulled her out of class and “cleaned her up,” maybe littering her face in kisses to make her feel better and hug her warm.

God, she wanted that more than anything, but then other people would know she was sick. JFK would know she was sick, and she didn’t want him to feel like he was stuck taking care of her. 

But alas, the day was finally over, and with JFK’s sweater around her body still, she approached him near the steps up to their school. 

“Are you, uh, ready, Joansie? Maybe we can stop, at er uh, the market and get some snacks on the way,” JFK smiled brightly, pulling her into his arms. 

Joan couldn’t say no, so the two of them got snacks at the store, luckily staying away from all the patrons. 

When they got to JFK’s house, JFK hollered at his dads, something about them being home, and he led Joan up to his room with the bags of snacks in tow, and Joan’s hand in his. Joan wanted to be so much closer to JFK than she was, but they were going up stairs so it really wasn’t possible. She was just so cold despite wearing three layers and being in a warm house. 

They watched movies, played board games, and JFK had mentioned making cake, but Joan said that maybe they could do it later. For the rest of the night they just picked up on watching movies, occasionally talking about their weeks, about their days and such. And they decided to sleep around 11:30.

Well, Joan  _ tried  _ to sleep. 

She got out of bed a few times to get some water, to maybe walk around a bit to try and get more tired. But no matter what, Joan couldn’t pull herself to get a good sleep in, not even for an hour. 

So when it was nearly 3 in the morning, and JFK was found hovering above her right when she was about to finally fall asleep, she wasn’t surprised.

“Joansie… you’ve been tossing and turning all night. Are you, uh, okay?” 

“Y-Yeah, I’m fine,” her voice was hoarse, and she let out a loud cough, immediately regretting speaking at all. She was sure she looked and sounded miserable, she didn’t need JFK freaking out about it.

“You sound, uh, sick, Joan. Are you feeling alright?”

Before Joan could answer, JFK placed his lips to her forehead, and pulled back, his eyes wild, almost comically large. If it wasn’t such a serious moment, Joan would’ve given a laugh.

“You’re burning up!” She was waiting for him to kick her out, to ask her why she would dare to be around anyone while she was in this state. But… it never came.

“C’mon, let’s actually take your, uh, temperature.” He rose from the bed, and walked over to her side of the bed. 

A blush rose to her face as she was lifted up and into his arms before she could even think to get up, and she pushed into his embrace, thankful for his warmth.

He set her on the bathroom counter, and opened the medicine cabinet to grab the thermometer. 

“You’re not worried about getting sick yourself?” Joan asked, fiddling with her fingers.

“What are you talking about?” JFK removed the plastic top on the instrument. “What am I, er, uh, gonna do, Joansie? Throw you out in the snow?” 

Joan smiled a little bit. She supposed that was kind of outlandish, to imagine her boyfriend throwing her out just because she was sick.

“You’re so silly, Joan. I want to take care of you, I wouldn’t leave you out to the, uh, dogs.”

He placed the thermometer in her mouth, and they sat in silence for a moment before the medical instrument beeped. 

“103 degrees… Joansie you know that’s not healthy, right? You should probably go to a-”

“Stop it, Jack. I’m fine.” Joan shook her head, and hopped off the counter, but fell into JFK’s arms as she tried to walk away. “I.. don’t want to go anywhere, especially the doctor’s. I just want to stay here. With you.” Her eyes were watering, and maybe it was only because she was sick.

“Okay, okay. We don’t have to go anywhere.” JFK must’ve picked up on Joan’s wobbling voice, because he took her back over to the bed and sat back with her against the pillows. 

Joan had been relieved when JFK said they could just stay there. She had an irrational fear of the doctor’s office, like many people do. That was the last thing she needed.

She allowed herself to fall back onto JFK, but when he shifted to get up again, she grabbed him quickly.

“Where are you going?”

“Joan, no offense, but your breathing, uh, sounds equivalent to a, um, werewolf transformation. I’m getting you some medicine and some water.”

Joan frowned. “Can’t we just….stay here?”

“You can stay here, and I can get the water.”

Joan groaned. 

“I’ll be really quick! Let me help you.” And with that, JFK was released from Joan’s clammy grip and was running out of the room, down the stairs, and in less than two minutes was coming back up with a glass of water and a bottle of medicine. 

“Okay, see? That didn’t even, er, take that long!”

“A minute is still a minute, Kennedy,” Joan feigned to be angry, and JFK just laughed, coming up beside her on the bed. 

“I, er, uh, suggest you take the medicine first, and  _ then  _ the water.”

Joan nodded, and she was given the correct dose of medicine, upon which she hacked and coughed.

“My  _ god  _ that shit tastes terrible…” Joan stuck her tongue out, shaking her head.

JFK laughed, “I know, I know, take the water now.”

Joan complied, and chugged the whole glass. It was cold against her throat, and it was rather soothing.

“D’you usually just… wait it out? Do you ever let anyone help you?”

Joan placed the glass on the bedside table. She remained silent at the question.

“It’s good to get help sometimes, Joansie. Even now, you’ll feel much better in the morning. Is this why you haven’t been at school all week?” JFK asked.

She nodded, falling back into JFK’s embrace. 

“I don’t like attention, Jack. You know this.” 

“I do,” JFK gave a light laugh, “but it’s, er, not like I would tell anyone you were sick. Maybe I coulda helped you, uh, sooner.” 

“Yeah, maybe.” Joan didn’t want to believe it. This whole time she assumed he wouldn’t have wanted anything to do with her. 

“I love you, Joansie.” JFK grabbed Joan’s face, and placed a kiss to her forehead.

“I love you too, Jack.” She smiled at him, and they shrugged themselves under the covers. 

“Now, let’s uh, try and get some sleep.”

As they laid there, JFK’s hands made their way into Joan’s hair, and he used his fingers to brush the hair away from her sweaty forehead. He continued to card his fingers through her hair, and Joan couldn’t help but let a wide smile spread across her face.

For the first time in a week, Joan slept compliantly with her sinuses, thankful that JFK was there to keep her warm.


End file.
